Who Cares?
by journeyman07
Summary: Part 5 to explain what happened back on Atlantis after Ronon and Amelia found something they didn't expect on Sheppard's little camping trip. Mild spoilers for Brainstorm.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **After 'Brainstorm', I really needed to try something different....and here it is. I post it very tentatively 1) with apologies to those who usually read my stuff for a dose of R/K shippyness and 2) because it's not beta-ed as my beta is busy with her NaNo writing challenge and I've got a lot of my other story (Never Give Away Your Advantage) for her to look at soon! So all errors are mine and mine alone. Very interested in (and slightly scared of) your reactions to this...so please leave me your reviews.

**PS: **This fic is for **renisanz**....for more reasons that I can write here.

* * *

'Do you think he'll ever make his move?' Sheppard mused absently, watching the couple that had caught his interest for a long moment.

'Who cares?' growled Ronon Dex, walking firmly in the opposite direction of a giggling Jennifer Keller and a grinning Rodney McKay. He chose one of the tables that looked out to sea and set his food tray down with a pronounced thud.

John Sheppard grabbed his own food tray and followed the Satedan hurriedly. He frowned at his team mate's obvious irritable mood, wondering if Ronon was going to sustain this during their camping trip. _It was quite possible_, Sheppard thought wryly, _that Ronon may well be in one helluva mood for days,...it'd happened before. _Not for the first time did the colonel wonder at the personal cost seven years on the run from the Wraith had exacted on the surly Satedan. Over the years, he'd seen Ronon's general demeanour lighten and his trust in Atlantis grow, but days like today reminded him of the angry and feral warrior they'd rescued from that life four years before.

'She's not your type you know,' Sheppard offered calmly as he sat down opposite Ronon.

'What?' came the inevitable terse reply, followed by the sound of tearing meat as Ronon tackled his steak with frightening energy.

'Dr Keller,' Sheppard continued blithely and waved his fork, 'not your type.'

'_What?' _ the word was even angrier this time.

'Well,' Sheppard feigned an air of the casual observer, adding salt to his meal as he did so, 'I know you kinda like her, but she's not your type, take it from me, nice though she is and all.'

Ronon's eyes narrowed, his expression one of hard flint, 'And...what...is...my...type?'

'Well,' John Sheppard paused to savour the flavour of his own steak portion, making some appreciative noises, 'some one more....' he searched for the word, '...active...?'

The look in Ronon Dex's eyes would have made most men of sound mind and body back off at this point. Not so John Sheppard. He felt supremely confident over how much he could broach with the Satedan, and that was more than most...most of the time...except for Teyla perhaps.

'Active?' Ronon shook his head in exasperation, knowing Sheppard wouldn't drop this topic, so he might as well just suffer it until it was over.

'Yeah,' Sheppard raised an eyebrow, ' you know, someone who knows how to fight, trap a bear, strip and clean a P-90...that kinda thing...like Banks, maybe?' the colonel grinned suddenly and gestured to the slim gate technician taking her place at the next table with a female colleague.

'Uh huh,' Ronon rumbled irritably, resuming his focus on the steak in front of him.

'Oh, c'mon, Ronon,' Sheppard leaned forward, 'how long's it been? Don't you ever get lonely?'

The big man dropped his meat in the tray and stared flatly at his team leader.

'Ok, Ok, forget I said anything,' the colonel muttered and shoveled vegetables onto his fork. This was definitely one of those moments when it was best to back off.

'Happy to,' Ronon confirmed dryly and concentrated on his own meal again.

The rest of their meal was consumed in silence. A silence only broken by Amelia Banks stopping to greet the colonel on her way to the food tray dispenser.

'What time would you like us ready to go, Colonel?' she asked, as if this were the most natural conversation opener in the world.

Ronon frowned, tensing slightly. What was Sheppard up to?

'In an hour, Corporal, and if you could let Zelenka know?'

'Yes sir,' the gate technician smiled, clearly pleased at whatever arrangements had been made. She nodded slightly at Ronon before leaving with her darker haired colleague.

Sheppard met the Satedan's look of enquiring disbelief and shrugged nonchalantly, ' her and her friend are also due some leave, so I asked them to come along,' was the only explanation given.

'And Zelenka?' Ronon's expression had gone beyond exasperation now.

'Oh, he wants to set up some equipment on the mainland or something,' Sheppard rose, 'he's just along for the ride, although...' he gathered his eating utensils, 'I think he has a thing for Banks' friend, what's her name? Thoms, Thomas, something like that...anyway she's helping him with whatever he's up to.'

Ronon shook his head again and followed the colonel to the dispenser.

'C'mon, it'll be fun,' Sheppard urged him, 'two beautiful women and a beach that's never been surfed and camping under the stars...you know, fun..you did have fun didn't you? You know, before...?'

'And Zelenka.' Ronon cut in dryly, choosing to ignore this last comment.

'Yeah, well, OK, and Zelenka, but he'll be busy with his science stuff.' Sheppard reassured the Satedan merrily.

'Huh.' was all the reaction Sheppard got and he settled for that, grinning to himself as he made his way to his quarters.

* * *

Ronon did the same. It took him just a few minutes to shove into a duffel bag all he thought he might need for a camping trip with Sheppard. It was odd to think of bringing anything apart from weapons and minimal food and water rations. This is what 'camping' meant to the ex-Runner; the notion of it being a leisure pursuit was essentially foreign to him. He had dim memories of a childhood playing in the forest near his home city and trips into the mountains with his grandfather, but they were just that: dim and hazy. He'd purposefully suppressed much thought of his life before the Wraith - it had been necessary for mental survival. Occasionally, intense flashes of Ronon's old life broke through the carefully constructed shields around his emotions. Such dreams woke him in the night, sweating and breathing hard from the uninvited flood of images.

At times Melena featured in those feverish dreams; just glimpses of her ready smile, long brown hair and slim hands...caring hands. Yet this was enough to wake him immediately. Such a long time ago, and yet...not. They had been little more than children really, children who had met and fallen passionately in love. They'd had great dreams and plans of a long life together...and then the Wraith came. Arriving in droves, they had systematically culled a whole planet and took everything Ronon had ever known and loved.

The Satedan breathed out and pushed those particular thoughts away, with disciplined deliberation and returned to the present.

Sheppard was right. He knew that Jennifer Keller wasn't really his type...but there was something about her nonetheless. Was it that she reminded him of Melena? Ronon had never been quite sure about that, even now when he knew Jennifer made her choice.

It hurt.

Yes, her choice hurt.

Yet in a way, this hurt served to remind him that he wasn't an emotional lost cause after all, and for that Ronon Dex was aware that he was curiously, and very privately, thankful.

He headed to the jumper bay - the bag slung low over one shoulder. Camping with Sheppard, two women he hardly knew (who were probably scared of him) and Radek Zelenka - it was that or two weeks on his own in the city, with only visitors to the sparring training sessions as company. Teyla and Kanaan were off visiting their people, Keller and McKay were returning to Earth and even Woolsey seemed to have plans involving something he'd called 'fine wine and Mozart'.

Camping on the mainland it was then.

Sheppard was already there, the two accompanying female Atlantis staff laughing at something he was saying. McKay would say that the Colonel was ...what did he call it?....'Kirking', at this point. Ronon sighed. John Sheppard had an easy way with women that allowed them to relax around him and talk readily. He couldn't remember _ever_ finding such scenarios easy.

'Ronon,' Sheppard acknowledged his teammate with a nod. He punched the door release on the jumper, 'All aboard people!'

'Where's Zelenka?' Ronon muttered. The Czech scientist was notable for his definite absence.

'I told him when and where, sir' Amelia Banks offered to the colonel, puzzled.

They all looked up at a clatter of feet and metallic boxes that crashed chaotically into the jumper bay.

'Sorry, sorry...' the scientist was clearly ruffled and sweating from trying to arrive on time.

Ronon noticed the corners of Banks' mouth lift up slightly in amusement. Not amusement at Radek Zelenka's expense though, more out of understanding of the man's nature. He watched her and her friend move forward to assist Radek with some of his equipment boxes, realising he could be doing the same.

'Thank you, thank you,' Radek Zelenka breathed, exchanging a bright smile with Banks' colleague Jessica Thoms, who smiled back enthusiastically.

Before he could help himself, Ronon rolled his eyes at this. To his surprise, Amelia Banks chuckled.

'She's been SO looking forward to this trip,' the Corporal offered, her eyes lit with humour.

'Really?' Ronon replied dryly.

'Oh, really.' Amelia Banks confirmed.

Ronon looked at her. She was nice. Friendly. Calm. Pretty even. And she wasn't afraid of him, of that he was sure. The other one...Thoms...she was, but this one wasn't... and she wasn't faking it either. She could also do those kicking moves that he'd never seen before.

'Great,' he deadpanned and was pleased when Amelia chuckled again.

'Are we ready, people?' Sheppard called out as the jumper's engines flared into life. Ronon buckled himself in and watched the azure sky above get closer as the little ship ascended.

The sky was clear to the horizon with bright sunshine.

Ronon Dex decided that maybe...just maybe...this trip might not be so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: **So...dunno where this came from! GLENN probably had something to do with it.J07 x


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **so here's a bit more fluff, with much thanks for your reviews and encouragement. I meant to serve the needs of the R/K shippers and write more of my other story, but this came out instead! I will get back to the other one soon though…GLENN are on the rampage, I reckon.

No beta (she's on vacation) so all errors created all by myself.

* * *

Ronon swung two of Zelenka's boxes of science equipment out of the jumper hold and was about to return for more when he stopped, straightened and gaped.

He'd not seen the ocean very often on Sateda. Once, twice maybe...as a young boy with his father.

It had been nothing like this.

Huge breakers rolled in rhythmically. They surged, crashed and died again and again along a vast length of unblemished sand. Lush trees and ferns lined its edge; a green curtain that shimmered and waved gently in the warm evening breeze.

'Whoa,' Sheppard murmured, echoing Ronon's thoughts.

'Yeah,' Ronon agreed whole-heartedly.

They gazed at the scene, transfixed.

'So, where would be a good place to camp?' Sheppard quizzed him after this long pause. The Satedan looked puzzled at this request.

'You spent seven years out in the open, Ronon, I'm guessing you know more about this kind of thing than me?' the colonel explained patiently.

'Uh, yeah...but...' the big man frowned, 'I always camped for maximum cover from...the Wraith...and so I could…uh...get away easily...do we need to do that here?'

Sheppard shook his head and grinned, 'Nope,'

'Well, the beach looks as good a place as any then.'

'Sure does.' Sheppard nodded, his grin wider.

Ronon looked away to the horizon and realised he _could_ actually_ see_ the horizon. All this space was overwhelming somehow, but at the same time oddly liberating. He stretched his arms out from carrying Zelenka's equipment and felt all the muscles along his shoulders and back flex and smooth out. So much tension. Years of it. Too long to be always coiled and wound like a taut spring. Far too long.

The beach beckoned. Ronon could almost hear its invitation humming in his ears.

'We need wood, buddy,' Sheppard said quietly in his ear, 'we can set up camp, take Banks with you,'

Ronon nodded once with a slight smile at his team leader's understanding. And then he was gone, jogging out into all that golden space. And underneath the big sky, with nothing but swirling air and the sound of the ocean filling up his senses, Ronon Dex finally remembered what it was to be free.

Unfettered movement, space and air - yes, that was freedom.

True freedom.

Eventually Ronon slowed to a halt and remembered that Corporal Banks was meant to be helping him collect wood. Turning a complete circle on the spot to take in the panorama, he deliberately took in some great gulps of the clean ocean air and waited for her.

The strangest sound nearby made him flinch. In an instant, the Runner's reflexes returned and his laser pistol was drawn, body tense and alert.

It happened again.

An explosion.

Or the sound of explosives. Not large ones. Small and localised. Like the hand grenades that were standard issue in the Satedan army.

Ronon watched Amelia Banks making her way along the shoreline and holstered his pistol. She was following a curiously green-tinged strip of sand running along the length of the beach. The ocean was just beginning to reveal it and every time the young woman poked at it with the stick she carried, there was the flash of an explosion.

'What the...?' he muttered, relaxing a little as it became evident that Amelia was enjoying the game she was playing with the sand's properties.

She began to toss pebbles at the green pathway and caused a succession of flame-coloured explosions. Ronon watched, entranced by her delighted fascination with this odd phenomenon.

'Did you see that?' Amelia's face was lit up, captivated by her discovery, 'this is incredible! Have you ever seen anything like it?'

He shook his head.

'Weird,'

'Look!' Amelia urged him.

Ronon watched as she carefully picked up a pebble from the shoreline. There weren't that many to choose from and he could see that she was being particular in her choice. Amelia weighed it in her hand and turned the flat grey stone over taking in its dimensions thoughtfully.

And then she threw the pebble as hard and as far as she could down the sandy beach. To Ronon's astonishment, it performed a series of high arched bounces in the sand. Amazingly, a series of explosions then accompanied each contact. These in turn triggered a shower of brightly coloured sparks in the flat pebble's wake. Set against the darkening sky, the flashing mixture of colours was surreally beautiful. Eventually the small stone came to rest and the impromptu firework display faded away and the sound of the ocean took its rightful place again.

'Whoa,' Ronon Dex muttered for the second time that day.

'Neat, huh?' Amelia grinned at him and handed over a larger pebble. Ronon looked at it, transfixed for a moment, and then looked at the slight woman standing beside him, waiting. Her light brown eyes held a hint of challenge, amusement and something else he couldn't quite place. Yes he could...she wanted him to...play.

Amelia explained it was like skimming stones on water and Ronon recalled something like that from his childhood. Except those stones didn't cause such an aesthetic display of firepower.

They made an odd sight as Sheppard used his binoculars to find out where his wood supply was.

'What _is_ he doing?' the colonel whispered, increasingly amused at the playful antics taking place far down the beach.

'Yes, what _is_ he doing? It'll be dark soon and we need a fire.' Radek Zelenka's irritated tones broke into Sheppard's reverie.

'You wanna tell Ronon to hurry up?' Sheppard lowered the glasses to enjoy Zelenka's nervous reaction to his quip. He knew the Satedan made the little Czech scientist extremely nervous at times. He also knew he shouldn't exploit this...but it was hard to resist.

'No, no, that's fine,' came the rapid reply, 'it can wait.'

'Ronon'll be here when he's ready,' Sheppard resumed watching the pyrotechnics display on the beach. He noted, with considerable amusement, that Amelia Banks consistently made her stones achieve more bounces (and therefore more explosions) than Ronon's, even if the big man could throw further.

'I win!' Amelia told Ronon gleefully.

'Didn't know it was a competition!' he threw back, but grinned at her nonetheless.

'Ah well, now you do,' she smiled in return, 'we should get wood, the others will wonder where we are.'

'Sure.'

They set off up the beach towards the tree line, lapsing into a shy silence now the focus of the green exploding sand was gone.

'So, you got family? On Earth?' Ronon decided that he ought to try and make some conversation with his unexpected companion. Thinking again of Sheppard's skills in this area, Ronon felt a hint of something akin to envy.

'Uh...' Amelia glanced up at him briefly, 'well... I did have.'

It was an odd answer. Ronon paused before asking her anything else - this was one of those moments when he was never quite sure how much Earth people wanted to say...or not. Eventually he went with the Satedan way:

'_Did_ have?'

'Yeah,' her voice went quiet, 'my parents and two brothers were killed in a car crash when I was twelve.'

Ronon couldn't help but look at Amelia in surprise. Stunned surprise in fact.

'Really?' he murmured and then mentally kicked himself for such a lame reaction.

'Yeah,' this was said with a slight rueful smile, 'guess that wasn't the answer you were expecting, huh?'

Ronon shook his head, 'Earth hasn't been culled by the Wraith, you should all be living in peace until you're old.'

The raised eyebrows look Amelia gave him told him that this really wasn't the case at all and Ronon thought he never would understand Earth culture. He'd heard from Sheppard about the ongoing wars between various Earth peoples. He had the impression that murders and horrific accidents like the one she'd just described were common place. It was beyond him why a planet free from the Wraith would want to kill each other instead. Didn't they realise how lucky they were?

'Tell me about them, your family.' he prompted her next.

'Well,' Amelia breathed out, thinking carefully, 'My father was in the airforce, he was a...a pilot...' her voice quavered just a little, 'he was a colonel...'

'Like Sheppard?'

'One rank above the Lt Colonel,' she clarifed. Ronon smiled at this deference to her superior officer.

'My mother was a high school teacher, well, she became one after we had all started school.' Amelia gazed into the distance, lost in her memories, 'my brothers, they were older than me, they were both marines, we were...a forces family...it was tradition you see...'

She shivered, although it was still warm, and crossed her arms rubbing the bare skin above her elbows. The movement was not lost on Ronon.

'So you're on your own,' he concluded gently.

'Yeah,' she nodded, 'I guess I am.'

'Like me.'

It was a statement of fact. Yet it carried huge gravitas. Understanding passed between them like a fine silver thread. Tenuous, tentative and yet making a connection all the same.

'Yeah.' Amelia Banks regarded the Satedan as if she was somehow seeing him for the first time.

'No husband?'

'No husband.'

He liked how she didn't flinch at these direct questions. Perhaps the loss of so much when she had been so young meant that Amelia Banks didn't bother with certain superficial pleasantries.

'Why?' Ronon wondered if that was pushing the topic a little too far, but he genuinely wanted to know. She was smart, pretty and she could fight. On Sateda, Amelia would have had her choice of suitors.

'We're divorced,' came the matter-of-fact answer, 'he decided he preferred someone else.'

'You're kidding me?!' his reaction was out before he could stop it, but as Ronon was about to apologise, he noticed Amelia was chuckling at his outburst.

'That's nice, thanks,' she offered, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks to accompany a smile.

'Was he crazy!?' maybe this conversation wasn't so difficult after all.

'No,' the sadness was evident in her tone, 'I married him because I was lonely, I wanted to be with someone, he was just the wrong someone.'

'Ok,' Ronon acquiesced, still not fully convinced.

'So, what about you?' Amelia changed the subject, 'who did you leave behind on Sateda?'

A shadow crossed Ronon's face and she noticed, immediately trying to ease him out of having to answer the question.

'I'm sorry...I didn't mean...you don't...'

'I had two sisters, older sisters...' Ronon began, thinking back to when he'd last talked like this with anyone and couldn't remember , 'Tirai and Lolin...'

To his surprise he finished speaking some minutes later, having related much of his family history to the slight, serious Earth woman with the intelligent brown eyes and wry smile. He described how his sisters had grown up, one to train as a doctor and the other to join the military like himself. He missed out how Tirai had introduced him to Melena, for the moment anyhow, but he included his parents' pride at their respective ceremonies of succession.

'I think you'd call that _graduation_?' Ronon asked.

'I would think so,' Amelia agreed, 'go on.'

'Lolin was killed in the first raid on Sateda,' he explained in a low voice, 'she died saving the lives of her platoon, she was a good soldier,'

'And Tirai?'

'In the last raid, when the hospital was bombed,' Ronon murmured, 'the same bombing that killed Melena, my wife, she was also a doctor.'

There, he had said it. In one short sentence. His biggest burden of grief had been spoken aloud. And in doing so, Ronon Dex felt its load lighten just a little. Only a little...but enough to make it easier to breathe. He knew it was customary for Earth people to use the word 'sorry' a lot in these situations; indeed Amelia had already used it once.

She didn't this time.

Instead Ronon found himself looking down at the slim hand that had threaded itself through his elbow. Her skin was warm, dry and soft. It reminded him that he was, in fact, still alive. More alive than he knew.

'I think...' Amelia paused, 'we should give ourselves permission to carry on living, don't you?' her comment was an astute echo of his thoughts. Once again, she surprised him.

The smile he gave Amelia was warm with gratitude for her shrewd understanding.

'Yeah, we could do that,' Ronon found himself saying.

Somewhere along the way, they'd stopped walking and were now facing each other.

'C'mon, Banks, we're supposed to be getting wood,' he reminded her, offering her his elbow and was pleased when she linked arms with him again without hesitation.

'Amy,' she said then.

'What?' Ronon was confused.

'Amy,' she repeated, 'my friends call me Amy.'

'Ok,' he grinned down at her, 'Amy, we need to get wood.'

* * *

**A/N: **still dunno where this is coming from or quite where it's going to as yet…so let me know what you think – thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Unbeta-ed for reasons already stated. Happy Thanksgiving to all US readers x

* * *

'Easy, Radek!' Sheppard urged the other man, as a rush of flames shot up into the night sky in an energetic plume. He stepped back and hurriedly brushed orange sparks from his arm.

'It's fine, Colonel,' Zelenka stoked the glowing embers once again to encourage the newer pieces of wood Ronon and Amelia had collected to catch alight. The new flames were even bigger than before, showering sparks everywhere.

'Whoa!' Sheppard made to grab the stick Zelenka was using in an attempt to curb the scientist's enthusiasm, 'We're going up ourselves next time, Radek, steady!'

Indeed a distinct pungent smell made him turn in alarm. And just as Sheppard shouted his name, Ronon realised that his neck was unnaturally warm and then a split second later he was aware that Amelia had smothered his head and shoulders in a nearby blanket.

'Ronon! Oh my god, Ronon!' the panic was evident in Zelenka's voice, hands clutched to his face in shock, 'I'm so sorry, are you OK? Ronon?'

'Yeah,' came the eventual very taciturn reply, as Amelia helped him carefully remove the blanket. She inspected Ronon's hair and head and frowned.

'No burns, you were lucky,' she told him quietly, 'but…'

'You've lost some of your dreads, buddy,' Sheppard cut in joining in the inspection and exchanging a concerned look with Amelia.

In one swift movement, Ronon had drawn the knife he kept sheathed at his back. The sound of smooth metal slicing against hard leather made Radek Zelenka stumble backwards, the colour draining from his face in an instant.

'I didn't…Ronon…I…' he babbled, hands in front of him now.

A dark unfathomable look on the Satedan's face was frozen in place. The breath left Zelenka's lungs.

'You…' Ronon snapped at the Czech, 'cut it off!' and he handed Zelenka the knife, his face then creasing into a smile.

Ronon caught Amelia's eye. She was trying hard not to laugh. Zelenka visibly sagged with relief.

'Cruel,' she murmured.

'Funny,' he winked at her.

'Cut what off? Oh… your hair…,' Zelenka gabbled some more as Ronon took a seat on one of his scientific cases, 'Really? All of it?'

'Yeah, c'mon,' Ronon challenged the fidgety scientist, 'I was gonna do it anyways, but since most of it is _gone_ now…' he gave Radek a mock glare, which was enough to galvanise the little man into action immediately.

'Of course, of course,' he agreed hastily.

Ronon sat and patiently endured being the source of spectacle as Radek Zelenka sliced systematically through his heavy dreadlocks. The scientist was surprisingly gentle and careful in his actions; perhaps not daring to potentially antagonise the Satedan further.

'Those must have been heavy,' Amelia observed, watching the mound of hair grow on the ground as Zelenka worked.

'They are…were,' Ronon corrected himself and accepted the beer Sheppard passed him.

'There,' Zelenka stepped back to admire his handiwork. Ronon Dex's hair was almost black and the loose waves left after the impromptu haircut curled onto the nape of his neck, but no further.

'Wow,' Sheppard exaggerated, 'so that's what you look like!'

'Yeah, yeah,' Ronon muttered.

'You look like a pirate,' Zelenka added, his head to one side.

'A pirate?' Ronon didn't understand the Earth reference.

'Yes, yes, they were a sea-' Zelenka started to explain.

'Is that a good or bad thing?' Ronon interrupted, addressing this to Amelia.

'Oh, it's a good thing,' she reassured him with amusement, 'in your case, anyway.'

'OK,'

The interest and focus in this turn of events died away as Zelenka bustled around finding pans to cook food on, having tidied away Ronon's redundant dreadlocks. Sheppard sidled off to greet Jessica Thoms as she returned from logging the latest set of test results from Zelenka's equipment.

Ronon rubbed his shorn head, trying to get used to how light it felt.

'How does it look, really?' he asked Amelia quietly.

'Fine,' she looked up at him and added, 'it _is_ easier to see your face now,'

'Is that a good or a bad thing?' Ronon said again, with a slight grin.

'Oh, that's a good thing, for sure,' came her answer and just a hint of a blush, Ronon thought, but he wasn't sure, 'were you really gonna cut them off?'

'Yeah, been thinking about it for a while,' he admitted, rubbing his head again, 'feels weird though, after all this time…'

'Is it a traditional style on Sateda or something?' Amelia asked, curious now.

'No,' Ronon shook his head, 'just a….' he groped for the word.

'Fashion?' she offered.

'Yeah, that's it,' he nodded and then pointed at her head, 'is that an Earth fashion?'

Amelia's hand shot self-consciously up to her own tightly pulled back bundle of hair.

'No,' she grinned, 'this is standard military regulation hair for operating in the field, if you don't want to wear short hair that is.'

'We're not out in the field, Amy, this is your…what's it called?...vacation,' it was a challenge and Ronon knew it as soon as he'd said the words. He crossed his arms and faced her down, waiting.

'True,' was all Amelia said, before unpinning her hair. It fell in thick glossy swathes to the middle of her back; a mixture of deep brown and lighter highlights.

'Nice,' Ronon observed with appreciation.

'Well, now that we've swapped hair,' Amelia began, a wry smile on her lips, 'perhaps we should eat.'

'Ok,'

The evening remained pleasantly cool, with the fire roaring to warm them through. Although, this time Sheppard insisted on managing the wood pile himself to prevent anyone else having to undergo further 'unplanned image styling moments' as he described it.

Ronon stretched out before the fire, his head and shoulders against the roll of bedding he'd brought from his quarters. He stared, almost mesmerised by the shooting flames, and half-listened to Zelenka's excited hypothesis as to why the green sand had explosive properties.

'You actually look relaxed, buddy,' Sheppard plopped down in the sand next to his friend and offered him another beer.

'Mmmm,' Ronon agreed, taking a casual sip and not moving his gaze from the flames.

'See that you and Banks are getting on well,' Sheppard prodded.

'Mmmm,' was the acknowledgement he got for this.

'Wonder if Rodney and Dr Keller are having a good time?' Sheppard tried next.

'Probably,' Ronon remarked, realising he had more or less not thought about Atlantis' CMO for a whole day. He wondered at that with interest then pushed the thought aside, deciding for now that it wasn't important.

'Who cares, right?' Sheppard quipped.

'Right,'

Ronon glanced up as the two women returned to the fire; he assumed they'd been to the area Sheppard had designated suitable for a bathroom. Earth women seemed to always like to carry out this function together – he'd noticed this before and thought he should ask Sheppard about it sometime.

For now, he felt a stab of pleasure as Amelia Banks sat down next to him and reached for a beer. Ronon shuffled over a little, so there was room for her to lean back if she wanted to. Sheppard spied Jessica and rolled away to talk to the pretty dark-haired woman before Zelenka got there first.

The evening was drawing in quickly now.

'So tomorrow….' Amelia stretched out and leaned back beside Ronon companionably, 'I want to take a look at that island we could see from the beach, you gonna come?'

'Sure,' he found himself saying easily.

'Good, it'll be fun.' Amelia closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the warmth of the fire seeping through her bones.

Ronon watched her. Last time a pretty woman had been friendly towards him, he had misread the signals badly…it seemed. If he thought about it, he was still smarting from making such a mistake. All of a sudden, he felt uncertain as to what was happening here. It had just been so long, so very long since he'd been in any situation like this.

But she wasn't Jennifer Keller.

Ronon thought back over the last few months. Jennifer had been uncertain of her considerable talents in medicine, uncertain of where her friendships should come from on Atlantis and therefore perhaps uncertain of her own feelings? Amelia Banks was a soldier, like him…and a good one: efficient and effective. He had no doubt that Amelia would have led her own platoon had she been Satedan. She was straightforward and honest in her interactions with people, saying only what she meant and only what she needed to – as far as he'd observed so far. Ronon liked this…in anyone, as a matter of fact.

'When you look at a night sky like that…'

Ronon was pulled back to the present at the sound of her quiet voice.

'What?'

'What do you think of?'

He leaned back and took in the millions and millions of tiny pin pricks forming the dark canopy above….and smiled.

'That there are worlds out there still free,' he admitted, tracing with an index finger the arm of the Pegasus galaxy as it traversed across the sky, 'and that one day they'll all be.'

'That's cool,' her agreement was heartfelt.

'And you?'

Amelia chuckled, 'Well, I keep looking for constellations I'd recognise from home and then I pinch myself because I'm on a whole different planet in a whole different galaxy, nothing as noble as your thoughts, I'm afraid!'

'That's OK,' his eyes were warm – yes, he liked her honesty, 'c'mon, get some sleep, it's a long swim to that island you want to see.'

'Night, Ronon,' she murmured sleepily at him, reaching for her own bedroll and slipping into its blanketed folds in one swift movement.

'Sleep well, Amy,' he told her quietly.

'You too,' came her murmur.

She could have chosen to move away from their position by the fire. It would have given her more room, but she didn't. Although they weren't touching and she was facing away from him, Ronon fell asleep under the night sky warmed by the fact that Amelia's slight form was curled up just beside him.

* * *

**A/N:** OK, I've been looking for a plot bunny to give me permission to get rid of that awful wig JM has to wear and this was it! Hope you like!

**Also:** I have a crazy mission to get to a 100,000 words published in total on my account by 9th December - which is the first year anniversary of when I started posting my fics here! That's novel-size pretty much and is a major achievement for little me, who'd never let anyone read anything of mine before! About 7500 words to go…I'll have to go a bit over because of these self-indulgent A/Ns! J07 x


	4. Chapter 4

Amelia Banks smiled at the morning sun and let it warm her face. She couldn't help think it was good to be away from Atlantis for a little while. She loved the city, the mission and her role in it as gate technician, but it had been an intense few months for them all. So when Colonel Sheppard had surprisingly asked if she'd like to tag along on 'a little mission involving mostly R&R and the occasional bit of mad scientist-monitoring' she'd jumped at the chance. She liked and respected Atlantis' wry military leader and was flattered that he'd asked. Even if she knew it was really just because she was Jessica's friend, but Amelia didn't mind.

In fact observing Ronon Dex (the newly styled Ronon Dex with extremely hot 'pirate-hair' no less) dispensing of much of his clothing in order to swim, she really didn't mind at all. Much speculation had gone back and forth amongst the women of Atlantis as to whether he and Dr Keller really _were _together, was she _really_ interested and was she _really _his kind…and if not who was? Ronon Dex was considered something of a mystery and a puzzle to most of them – Amelia knew that was part of his attraction. Right now, she had an extremely good view of other reasons he created such fascination as she watched Ronon wade into the water.

'C'mon!' the Satedan shouted to her, already several strokes out to sea. He could swim fast, Amelia noted, with strong efficient strokes that cut effortlessly into the water.

'OK,' Amelia muttered to herself and slipped out of her pants and T-shirt. This had been her idea, she reminded herself, so there was no backing out now. She slung the waterproof canoe bag containing her clothes and food supplied around her shoulders and followed him in.

The water was soothingly warm and clear. It felt comforting on her skin as she submerged herself and headed out after the Satedan. Amelia was a good swimmer, but there was no way she was gaining any ground on Ronon's tall frame.

So she relaxed into a steady rhythm and kept the Satedan in sight. Particularly as any potential break in the high cliffs surrounding the small island had not revealed itself as yet. Amelia fervently hoped Ronon would resolve this issue before she arrived. Climbing the cliffs wasn't completely impossible, but it would be difficult as would the necessary descent later.

Sure enough the Satedan veered off to the right, then began to tread water until she caught him up.

'Through there,' he indicated a short tunnel of rock through which tantalising glimpses of a small sandy beach could be seen.

'OK.' Amelia kicked her feet back to propel herself forward once more. The reflection of the water on the tunnel's ceiling shone with an ethereal luminescence and the sound of their movements were magnified, echoing strongly…quite at odds with the sheltered tranquil scene beyond.

'Wow,' she murmured.

'Yeah.' Her companion agreed.

A perfectly formed half-moon of beach led back to a lush green interior that was sprinkled with a variety of spherical pink and blue blossoms that swayed in the light breeze.

But what was most interesting was the hut.

'Wha…?' Ronon began, taking long strides towards the dilapidated dwelling.

A single storey cabin snuggled against the tree line at the far end of the beach. Clearly built long ago - its timbers creaked musically in the wind, almost in time with the waves breaking on the shore. Abandoned and empty, its roof gaping with holes and its windows sporting broken shutters. Yet Amelia surmised that it must once have been someone's beloved home due to the intricate carvings of birds and animals on the heavy wooden door. _Those most have taken some time_, she thought in wonder tracing a finger down the neck of what looked like a graceful horse, _so beautiful._

Whereas she had mounted the steps to the porch and thus to the door, Ronon had inspected the outside layout of the cabin. He was standing in the remains of a garden that backed on to the side of this unlikely home. Soil still evidently rich and fertile lay in parallel beds.

'Some one grew food here,' Ronon remarked, crumbling the husks of long dead plants in his fingers.

'How long ago did they leave?' Amelia said aloud, pushing the doorway open.

'A long…' she turned at Ronon's pause and caught the Satedan staring oddly at the carvings embedded in the door.

'What is it?'

'I…uh…' he began then stepped through into the cabin, his face suddenly serious and focused.

There was just one room. One end was a simple living and sleeping area, with a table, a bed, one low-slung chair and a stove. Apart from this last item, all the other pieces of furniture looked like they'd been fashioned from materials yielded by the island. Beautifully fashioned, Amelia noted, noticing the continued theme of animal carvings winding dreamily across the table and chair.

The other end of the cabin held Ronon's attention. In fact, Amelia had never seen him so transfixed and so…stunned.

'What is it?' she urged him, a little nervous at this reaction. To her Ronon Dex was usually the epitome of self-controlled stoicism.

'Whoever lived here…' she picked up the even more surprising crack in the big man's deep voice, 'they were Satedan.'

'Satedan?' her exclamation carried over the quiet air.

'Yeah, Satedan.' Ronon gazed at the scene before him, soaking up the images and cultural references he'd thought forever lost to him.

Amelia followed the direction of his reverie. To her, it seemed like the room at this end of the cabin was an artist's studio – a jumbled, chaotic and prolific artist's studio. Huge paintings of forests, animals, birds and various buildings and dwellings lined the walls – some were hung, others were stacked maybe six or seven deep against each other. Each had a distinctive common style: a theme of two or three related colours used to create shapes through a seemingly random patchwork of brush strokes. It reminded her of a style she'd learned about in high school, but couldn't quite remember what it was. Everything about this cabin was somehow a little familiar but intrinsically alien at the same time.

Ronon had scanned through one stack of paintings, and was hefting a large board into view. Amelia took in the scene of a large, ornate building with turrets and towers at each corner and four proud buttresses arranged like wings down its sides. Its façade was a series of deep reds and browns – even the tall windows seemed majestic and noble in this artist's representation.

'Is that somewhere you know?' she whispered reverently.

'Yeah,' Ronon nodded, 'that's the military academy, I trained there…we _all _trained there.'

'It's beautiful.' Amelia added, hoping the words didn't sound to trite. She could only begin to imagine what a find this place must be to Ronon. Here were artefacts, images and evidence of his world – a world to all intents and purposes lying in ruins thanks to the Wraith.

'And this is my city,' he stated quietly, showing her the next painting he'd chosen. It was a wide panorama that looked down from some unknown vantage point on to a sprawling, glittering metropolis.

'It's called…_was _called Tezant, second biggest city on Sateda,' he offered, anticipating her next question astutely.

Amelia nodded, suddenly feeling like she was a voyeur into someone's private and painful memories. She shifted her feet, feeling uncomfortable.

'Why…' she wanted to know, 'why was this person here?'

Ronon sighed and set the painting down carefully, unable to take his eyes away from it.

'Uh…it was a tradition that some of my people…not many…usually men…' he scratched his beard, 'liked to live alone like this, so they could think, paint, write…without interruptions from the rest of us. Sometimes they found other worlds to do this. Like this one, I guess.'

'Hermits.' Amelia nodded, 'I think we would call them hermits.'

'People live like this on your planet too?' Ronon lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

'Yeah, in various cultures on Earth.'

Amelia shivered just once then, unsure if it was because of their discovery or her drying skin.

'Don't get cold.' Ronon told her, 'get some clothes on.'

'OK.' she consented, touched by his concern and thankful for a chance to end what she felt was her intrusion on this moment, 'Back in a minute.'

Her retreating barefoot steps left silence in their wake. In the stillness Ronon Dex stared mesmerised at the unexpected evidence of his home planet and his previous life. _A Satedan lived here_, he repeated over and over to himself. _One of my people was here. _

_One of my people._

He picked up a pile of papers from the windowsill behind him and perused them. To Ronon's surprise they were photographs – the colours withered and flaking from lying in the sun for so long – but he could still make out the images: pictures of a man, a woman and several children, an older couple, a group of young male soldiers with arms around each other's shoulders, smiling into the camera.

_They look so young,_ Ronon thought sadly, remembering in an instant his own platoon. Their faces sprung into his mind's eye as if he'd only left them behind yesterday.

_Who were you?_ He found himself silently asking the previous occupant of the cabin.

The last picture was of a man, probably aged around forty or so with long dark hair and a short beard - similar to Ronon's own. His eyes were strong, intelligent and held an expression Ronon knew intimately.

One of loss.

_You didn't choose to be here, _Ronon felt a heady rush of realisation. This man had escaped, he was a refugee from the last siege in Sateda – he was sure of it! The garden, the cabin, the paintings…they'd certainly been abandoned for some time, but not years and years. Ronon had already noted this with some puzzlement.

He peered more closely at the photograph. The man's tattoo held three strokes alongside the main symbol, denoting that he not been a Specialist like Ronon, but he had been of high rank.

_What happened to lead you all the way out here? Why did you end up alone? Did you lose everyone? _His thoughts came unbidden now._ Did you stay and fight? Or did you run? _For a moment he thought bitterly of Kell, his commander who had betrayed them all to make good his own escape. _No, you weren't like him. He would never have painted the city to look like that._

_Who were you?_

'Ronon?' he glanced up at the sound of Amelia's soft tones. Something about the way she spoke his name got his attention immediately.

'What?'

'I found something.'

He followed her out into the sunshine, blinking in its brightness. Round the side of the cabin was a freshwater stream gurgling out from the forest. Obviously this had been the place where the cabin's inhabitant had drawn his water from everyday. A discarded wooden pail lay rotting nearby and beyond that…

Beyond that…propped against a tree trunk laid the bones of a man. They were bleached bare from the sun, the wind and no doubt had been picked over by the island's wildlife as well. Shreds of clothes hung from the skeleton's shoulders – the customary leather tunic of Satedan men. Ronon knelt beside the remains of the cabin's owner and found a traditional hunting knife strapped to a belt now hanging loose on the hipbones.

'He'd broken his leg.' Ronon murmured indicating the fractured bone and the crumbling evidence of a makeshift splint, 'That's what killed him.'

'Yeah,' Amelia agreed, thinking that some kind of infection or complication must have rendered this lone Satedan unable to move in the end. He had simply lain against the tree and died.

'I'm so sorry, Ronon.' She added, reaching out to touch his shoulder, wanting to say something or do something to alleviate his pain.

Ronon stood and smiled down at her – his expression wistful. Another mood Amelia had not seen before.

'I wish I'd known him.' he stated gruffly.

'Well, in a way you do, because of…' she gestured to the cabin, 'because of the art work he left behind.'

'Yeah, maybe.' The sadness in Ronon's voice made something twist inside Amelia.

'Do your people have ceremonies for those who die?' she was thinking fast.

He nodded, puzzled as to where this line of enquiry was headed.

'How is it done?'

'There's a…' Ronon paused, 'a Burning…of the person's remains…and words are said…'

'We could do that,' she suggested gently, 'for him, what do you think?'

Ronon looked at Amelia. This young woman he hardly knew had kept a respectful distance as he'd stumbled on these ghosts of Sateda's past…had asked only polite questions about his heritage and was now offering to observe Satedan customs around honouring the dead with him.

'OK.' He mumbled, catching Amelia's hand as she nodded and turned away, 'Amy…' he cleared his throat, 'thanks…this isn't quite…uh…what I had in mind for this trip.'

Amelia smiled at him.

'We can do all that another time,' she found herself saying, wondering at her bravery and then blushing as Ronon replied.

'Yeah.'

'OK then,' Amelia agreed, 'Now tell me what to do.'

* * *

**A/N: **Unbeta-ed because I'm off to see the family for Christmas tomorrow and wanted to post this before I went (which doesn't really give my fab beta enough time to look at it) and she's done enough for me lately as it is!!

So, **reni,** I hope you can see the references in this that are a nod to your own particular talents and interests…and there'll be more of it for you to beta after the holiday!

And to you dear reader, I dunno where this came from – sorry, I know it's meant to be a fluffy fic, and it will be again – but Ronon's history has always fascinated me even if it's a sad one. J07 x


	5. Chapter 5

Large orange flames leapt into the sky as Ronon lit the funeral pyre he and Amelia had built on the shore. The roaring of the fire surged through the gathering dusk breaking the evening silence.

He stared at the skeleton burning in the fire's heat. It was more than a set of bones.

The unknown Satedan.

One of his people.

A man from Tezant - his own city no less.

He spoke aloud the words of the Burning – a little hesitantly at first perhaps - it had been a long time since Ronon had spoken any Old Satedan. He'd assumed the archaic language would have no further use and had let the words fade in his memory– how odd this assumption should be proven so wrong.

Amelia listened carefully. The words were just sounds to her, but lyrical and full of meaning she understood. She knew about mourning the death of loved ones and this ceremony was no different– even if its recipient was a stranger.

Ronon finished and stood, gazing into the flames. This might have been him, both of the past and in the future. It was a sobering thought.

Amelia's warm hand slid into his. He kept it there, grateful for her unquestioning support. He _would_ make it up to her at some point, he decided. She was worth that.

'Do you want to say anything?' he asked quietly.

'Really?' Amelia was startled at this, 'I mean…would that be right?'

'It would.' Ronon smiled reassuringly at her.

'Uh…OK….' The young woman thought carefully, then addressed the pyre clearly, 'I didn't know you, but you've taught me more than you'll ever know about your home planet, Sateda, and for that I'm honoured and grateful. I wish your spirit a safe journey to its resting peace, wherever that might be.'

Ronon nodded in approval.

'C'mon,' he said, 'Best radio Sheppard and tell him why he can see a big fire.'

'Could he bring the jumper over here, so you could take back the paintings?' Amelia was thinking practically. She wouldn't want to leave this treasure trove of memories and images behind and doubted Ronon would either.

'Yeah.' She saw him glance at her as he agreed, 'Good idea.'

* * *

'How is he really?' Sheppard nodded towards Ronon, who sat in the back of the jumper and was unusually quiet – even for the Satedan. They'd all helped to transport and pack into the jumper the paintings and other items belonging to Ronon's countryman. During this Ronon had been as ever stoic and pragmatic. But Sheppard knew better.

'He's….' Amelia grasped for the right word, wondering if she should just deliver suitably neutral comments about Ronon's state of mind. Yet, the colonel had none of his habitual flippancy about him – he was obviously concerned for his team mate.

'He's sad…' she stated honestly, 'He lost a lot. I didn't realise.'

'Not many do.' Again the sincerity in Sheppard's tone was unusual to her. 'Not many do.'

As if suddenly aware that his mask had slipped a little, Colonel Sheppard got to his feet and made his way to the back of the jumper – its hold door still open. He peered out down the beach.

'Radek, where are you?' he eventually rapped out crisply over the comms link, 'We're due to leave, Radek, please respond.'

'Sorry, colonel, on my way,' the scientist could be heard breathing hard even over the radio.

Amelia stood and saw the diminutive Czech come into sight with Jessica. It was like coming full circle back to the beginning if the trip – watching Zelenka struggle with all his scientific equipment and waiting for him to arrive.

'I'll help them,' she announced quietly to no one in particular and slipped out the door.

She was unaware of Ronon's eyes watching her slight figure jogging off down the beach.

'See, I told you she was more your type.' Sheppard directed this at the Satedan, in an attempt to lift his friend's mood.

Ronon rolled his eyes and shot Sheppard a dark look. The colonel chuckled – at least he'd got a reaction.

* * *

The journey back to Atlantis was punctuated with Radek and Jessica's excited chatter about what they'd discovered about the exploding sand and some nearby rocks with similar properties. Sheppard humoured them so Ronon could be left in peace, with no obligation to discuss what he and Amelia had found on the island unless he wanted to.

He didn't.

* * *

Richard Woolsey was pleased to see them return and intrigued by the Satedan art collection that began emptying itself into the jumper bay.

'My, my…' he mused, looking over some of the bigger boards, 'these are really quite good.'

His eyes roved over some of the other paintings, until he noticed Ronon standing by watching his assessment closely through narrowed eyes.

'I mean…' Atlantis' commander stuttered, 'these are _very_ good, yes, very good.' He respected and liked the brooding Satedan, but was still more than a little scared of him.

'_Are _they good?' he then added bravely, looking Ronon straight in the eye, genuinely wanting to know.

He thought he saw a flicker of amusement kindle in the other man's face, but wasn't sure.

'Yes,' Ronon confirmed, knowing what Mr Woolsey was asking, 'On Sateda, these would be considered masterpieces.'

'I thought so.' Richard Woolsey breathed out in relief.

New voices from near the jumper bay doorway caught and drew Ronon's attention. Mr Woolsey felt the remaining tension drain from his body.

Rodney and Jennifer. They were back from Earth already, looking happy and relaxed. Both were coming forward to greet him, smiling.

'These are amazing!' Rodney was saying, looking agog at the paintings collection and then at Ronon himself. 'Your hair…?' he stuttered, 'What happened to your hair?'

'Yeah, really incredible, Ronon.' Jennifer's eyes were warm, yet still a little cautious as to how she would be received. She tried to hide it, but he could see it nonetheless. _And did she mean the paintings or my hair? _Ronon wondered, running one hand absently over his shorn locks.

'I'll start taking these to the library,' Amelia's voice sounded gently to his right, indicating the first batch of paintings. She clearly felt the subtle awkwardness of the situation and wanted to absent herself from it.

'The city has a library?' Ronon asked her, his eyes crinkling upwards at this. He wasn't letting her go that easily.

'Apparently so, according to Zelenka.' Amelia nodded, 'It's on the twelfth level.'

'OK. Another good idea of yours.' Ronon agreed, 'Too many for my quarters…'

'I think so.' She couldn't help her amused tone.

'Make sure you take one for _your_ quarters though.' He instructed her gently.

'Really?' Amelia's open astonishment at this offer wasn't lost on any of those present.

'Amy was with me when I found all these.' Ronon explained to Rodney and Jennifer.

'Really?' it was Jennifer's turn to sound surprised. Ronon allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction at this reaction. Neither had he missed the brief look they'd given each other at the use of Amelia's preferred abbreviation of her first name.

'I'll take this one.' Amelia announced and held up what was obviously a self-portrait of the island's solo inhabitant. His expression was serious as his dark eyes stared into the unknown distance. _Like the photo,_ Ronon noted, wondering if the other Satedan had used it for this painting.

'Good choice.' He murmured with approval. 'OK, let's start moving the rest.'

Noticing Rodney and Jennifer still staring at them, he couldn't resist adding: 'Zelenka'll tell you about the hair.'

* * *

'Looks like they're happy together.' Amelia observed of Rodney and Jennifer once they were out of earshot.

Ronon outwardly shrugged at this, but his eyes twinkled with humour at Amelia's probing. And it didn't matter about Rodney and Jennifer, he realised, it didn't matter anything like it used to anymore.

When the task was complete and the library's one spare wall was lined with carefully stacked Satedan paintings, Ronon turned to Amelia and said simply, 'So, maybe see you later?'

This invitation (if that what it was) came out as a mumble. If Amelia knew Ronon better, she could swear that the big man looked awkward, self-conscious…shy even.

'Yeah, of course,' she replied, 'that'd be good.'

'I have to…uh…' Ronon scratched his head, '…got some things to do…'

'Sure.' Amelia frowned, trying to make things easy for him. _Whatever it was…that needed to be made easy._

'OK,' the Satedan turned to leave, then turned back as if he was about to say something further, 'Uh…I…'

She waited patiently.

'See you later, Amy.' Ronon said eventually, before hurrying off down the hallway.

Amelia stared after his retreating back, puzzled by this erratic behaviour and shook her head. _Another side to Ronon Dex,_ she concluded.

* * *

And it was much later when Amelia opened the door to her quarters in what Ronon could only assume was her sleep attire: a shapeless baggy top and similar pants made from a fluffy pink and purple material he didn't recognise. Her long brown hair was strewn in a wayward fashion across her shoulders and over her face. Her feet were encased in what looked like flat yellow shoes. Ronon thought to himself that the whole ensemble was quite at odds with her usual crisp uniform and tidy hair. He liked it.

'Uh…sorry…were you sleeping?' he immediately felt concerned.

'Yes, I mean…no…not really.' she mumbled, 'It's OK, come in.'

'Sure?'

'Yeah, come in.' she beckoned him inside, 'Coffee? Or something?'

'Coffee's good.' Ronon confirmed, glad for the safe topic of conversation she'd so easily given him. He watched her move sleepily around the kitchen area of her quarters. He didn't worry too much about her doing this with her eyes half closed, as Amelia's whole coffee making process was clearly well practiced – her movements automatic.

'You OK?' she asked him, passing the steaming mug.

'Fine,' he answered routinely, then thought better of it. This was Amelia …Amy…she'd been there on the island when he'd sent his fellow Satedan on his way to the after-land. 'Not bad.' He added more truthfully.

'Good.' She yawned, 'That's good.'

'I'm sorry, you were asleep.' Ronon felt awkward, thinking he should never have accepted her offer of coffee. 'I should go…'

'Sorry,' Amelia apologised for her tiredness, 'was there something you wanted?'

'Yeah.' Ronon frowned, thinking how best to put what was on his mind, 'Sheppard's organised a movie night for tomorrow… I was wondering if you'd like to come…with me…'

'A date?' she challenged him, a glint of humour in her eyes.

'Yeah, a date,' Ronon agreed, relieved and pleased she'd actually used the word, 'I said I'd make up for the island trip.'

'So you woke me up in the middle of the night to ensure this would happen?' Amelia teased him lightly unable to hide the delighted smile that spread across her face.

'Is it the middle of the night?'

'Yes Ronon.'

'I don't sleep too well.' was his deadpanned explanation.

'OK.' Amelia grinned at him.

'OK what?'

'OK, it's a date,' she told him, 'now please let me sleep.'

And with that Corporal Banks pointed firmly at the door.

'OK, I'm gone.' Ronon got the hint and stood.

'Good.'

She walked him to the door.

Ronon paused in the doorway, thinking.

'Look,' he gazed down at her, 'I never thanked you, for what you did, back there on the island.'

'You're welcome.' Amelia murmured in return. He was standing so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Slowly, slowly Ronon lowered his lips to hers praying that he was not misunderstood, that Amelia wouldn't pull away at the last minute or recoil suddenly. She did neither. Rather her soft mouth yielded willingly under his as he instinctively drew her closer. The slight pressure of her hands sliding up his back made Ronon shiver and he dared to deepen the kiss, winding one hand into her long hair with the other encircling her waist.

Eventually they drew apart, breathing heightened. Ronon gently disentangled their arms and hands, saying nothing. He made to leave but not without flashing Amelia a heart-stopping grin as he did so.

Amelia closed the door to her quarters and turned round, leaning against it in a complete daze. In one slow movement she let her back slide down the door, until she was sitting. All her awareness was overwhelmed with the imprint of Ronon's lips and body against hers.

'OK.' Amelia exhaled slowly after a moment in an attempt to steady herself.

* * *

She was expecting Ronon the next evening and therefore surprised when the Satedan turned up at her door mid morning.

'You had breakfast yet?' he asked her, stepping inside the door.

Amelia shook her head.

'Nor me, c'mon.'

Amelia shook her head wryly and chuckled at his apparent newfound confidence. She felt like she was being laid claim to – it was not altogether an unpleasant feeling, not at all in fact. Cultural differences manifested themselves in the subtlest of ways, she decided.

'Morning, Ronon,' she added ironically, observing some of the usual formalities of greetings.

'Uh…sorry, hello.' He grinned at her and to confirm the greeting literally swept Amelia off her feet and once more kissed her lingeringly on the mouth.

'Will you stop that!' she swatted Ronon's shoulder as he lowered her gently to the floor. He was pretty sure that the flush on Amelia's cheeks and the dancing amusement in her eyes told a different story to her words though.

'OK.' Ronon became serious for a moment. He remembered that maybe, just maybe his forwardness had been too much for Jennifer Keller and effectively had scared her off. He didn't want to do that again – Amelia was just what he wanted. And needed. She was sharp, funny and strong in a quiet understated way that he found immensely attractive. Her slim athletic beauty added to her charms of course, but…

'If you don't want this…' Ronon tried to begin. He wanted to give her a chance to be honest about what could be developing between them.

Amelia slipped her arms around his neck, immediately aware of the wariness in his eyes.

'I want this.' She reassured him. It was true. She did. Ever since she'd seen the noble wounded soul hiding behind the gruff warrior exterior back on the island.

'It's just that…uh…' _How to explain?_

'Ronon,' she halted him with a soft kiss on the lips, 'I want this. Let's try it, see if it works. I think it might.'

'OK.' He grinned at this and kissed her again.

'But….' Amelia breathed against his mouth, now in danger of completely losing her sense of reason, 'if you carry on doing _that,_ neither of us will _ever_ get any breakfast!'

'OK.' She didn't miss the tug of a wolfish smile fleeting across Ronon's face and poked him gently in the ribs for it.

* * *

Sheppard nudged Teyla as Ronon and Amelia headed into the mess hall together.

'They look happy.' Teyla observed and smiled sideways at the colonel.

'What?' Sheppard spread his hands innocently.

'I think this is your doing, Colonel.' Teyla accused him, the humour glinting in her tawny eyes.

'Don't know what you mean.' Sheppard took a liberal sip of his coffee and exaggerated his sigh of satisfaction at its bitter taste.

'John….' Teyla's knowing look cut through his pretence immediately…as it always had.

'Well, I may have…' Sheppard admitted from behind his coffee mug, 'you know, pointed out the obvious to Ronon.'

'The obvious?' Teyla's look contained disparaging incredulity. It made him squirm.

'Yeah, you know, that Banks is…' he took a gulp of his coffee before launching into his explanation, '…more his type, knows how to fight, likes sports…that kinda thing…and is quite…' he paused, shifting uncomfortably under Teyla's gaze, 'quite pretty, you know, and…isn't interested in anyone else…_at all_, in fact.'

The last was uttered with satisfaction at a job well done as they watched Ronon and Amelia share some kind of private joke and laugh together.

Teyla chuckled and nodded.

'I think you are right.' she conceded.

''Bout time Ronon got the girl.' Sheppard nonchalantly justified his actions and grinned at the Athosian.

Teyla laughed outright at this.

'True, 'she agreed warmly.

**END**

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* * *

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**A/N:** Beta-ed by **renisanz** with many thanks. Hope you all enjoy – please let me know if you do – feedback really helps to keep me writing! I've grown kinda fond of these two, so there may be more R/A fics on the shippy horizon for 2009. J07 x


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